


Day Two

by TheLittleRedWhoCouldWrite



Series: 30+ Days of TFW Imagines [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/M, Female Reader, Reader-Insert, hurt reader
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-30
Updated: 2015-11-30
Packaged: 2018-05-04 06:23:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,904
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5323853
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheLittleRedWhoCouldWrite/pseuds/TheLittleRedWhoCouldWrite
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompt: Imagine Sam being pissed at you because you almost died saving him on a hunt.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Day Two

_Hurts._

"Stay with me, baby. Just stay with me."

_But it hurts._

"No, don't close your eyes. Keep looking at me. You have to stay awake."

_Why? Wouldn't it be better to sleep?_

"You're going to be okay. You're going to be just fine."

_I am? How do you know?_

"Everything's going to be alright. Just stay with me, sweetheart."

_But sleep sounds so lovely. Nothing would hurt anymore._

"Please, stay awake."

_Sleep_

XXXXXX

_Beep... beep... beep..._

Sam hates the sound. He runs his fingers through his hair and stairs down at the figure on the bed. You look so small, skin impossible pale against the white sheets. He reaches out to lay his hand over yours, trying to imagine away all the tubes and wires.

"Sam."

He looks up to see Dean standing in the doorway, coffee cups in both hands.

"I think I got it right," he says, holding one out to his brother. "I don't know how you can ruin perfectly good coffee that way, but whatever."

"Thanks," Sam murmurs, taking the cup. He curls his fingers around it to warm them, but doesn't drink.

"I talked to the doctor again," Dean continues. "Asked if there was anything other options. He said all that's left to do is treat her injuries and wait to see if the swelling goes down."

Sam nods, turning his coffee and finally taking a small sip. It's not quite as sweet as he prefers it, but he can't bring himself to care.

"She's going to be fine." Dean lays a hand on his brother's shoulder. "She's a fighter. It's gonna take me than this to bring her down. Just you wait." Sam doesn't respond. "I'm gonna run back to the motel to shower and change. You should come with."

Sam shakes his head. "I can't leave her."

"Dude, you reek."

"Don't care. 'M not going."

"Alright, I won't force you. But you're going to have to shower sometime."

When Sam is silent, Dean shrugs and leaves. Sam drinks a little more of his coffee, hunched over in the tiny plastic chair by your bed, and blinks back the stinging in his eyes. He won't cry. He refuses.

Why couldn't you have just stayed at the Bunker like he'd asked? He'd known this hunt was too dangerous. You're still new to hunting and ghouls are never an easy hunt. He'd tried to insist on you staying behind, but you gave him that look he can't seem to refuse, and now you're in a coma.

Despite his best efforts, Sam can't seem to stop himself from replaying the events of the past week over and over.

XXXXXX

_"You're not coming, Y/N, and that's final!"_

_"Sam, how am I ever going to get better if you don't let me hunt?"_

_"Ghouls are some of the nastiest monsters out there. You need more training under your belt before you can even think about taking one on."_

_"Who said I was going to fight them? I just don't want to be left behind again. Besides, just because I'm not as good of a fighter doesn't mean I can't help with research." You stick your bottom lip out a little, doing your best version of the puppy eyes._

_Sam resists for all of thirty seconds before groaning out a "fine."_

_"Thanks, Sammy!" You throw your arms around his neck and kiss him firmly. "You're the best." You skip away to pack, ponytail bouncing."_

_"Dean's going to kill me," Sam sighs._

XXXXXX

Dean comes back after a few hours. He brings food, including the salad Sam enjoyed the other day from a diner near their motel. The younger Winchester picks at the food, only eating when Dean orders him to.

"You're not spending the night," Dean says, stuffing their trash into the bags he used to carry the food.

"What? Yes, I am."

"No, you're not. You're coming back to the motel, where you're gonna shower and sleep. You can come back in the morning, but not a moment sooner."

"But..."

"No. No 'but's. You can stay until visiting hours end. I gave the night nurse my number. She'll call if there's any change."

At any other time, Sam would've made a snarky comment about the not being the real reason Dean gave her his number, but not today. "Okay." He doesn't like it, but he doesn't have the strength to argue.

They sit in silence- Dean messing around on his phone and Sam just watching you- until a nurse comes in to tell them visiting hours are over.

Sam reluctantly unfolds himself from the chair. He stretches, popping his back, and then bends down to press a soft kiss to your forehead.

"I love you," he murmurs before following Dean out the door.

XXXXXX

_"I love you."_

_You smile up at the big man. "I love you, too, Sam."_

_"Will you two stop making goo goo eyes at each other so we can go?"_

_Sam makes a face, though Dean can't see it. "Don't leave the motel room, don't open the door, and-"_

_"-don't follow you. I know. I'll be fine."_

_"I know." He hugs you tight, kisses your forehead, and leaves._

_You wait until you hear the Impala leave the parking lot before leaving the motel room. You quickly cross the street to the rental car place you scouted out earlier and borrow a small Toyota Neon._

Dean would hate this car,  _you think as you make your way through the small town to where the ghouls are based. You pull up beside the Impala and tiptoe towards the building._

_It looks like an ordinary house, but the sounds coming from inside are not ordinary. Far from it._

_You check your gun for the third time, just to ensure it's still loaded- it is. You also have your machete. Not daring to hesitate any longer, you kick the front door down._

_Dean is grappling with one ghoul, but seems to be handling it. It's Sam you're worried about._

_The younger Winchester is lying on the floor, knocked unconscious, with a second ghoul standing over him. You don't think. You just do._

_"Hey, ugly!"_

_The ghoul, who has taken the form of a pot bellied, middle-aged man, turns. A sneer crosses his face when he sees you._

_"Fresh meat," he purrs. "Lovely."_

_"Oh, yeah? Then come and get me."_

_The ghoul lunges, catching you off guard. He slams you against the closest wall and his fingers close around your throat. Your eyes widen as your windpipe is abruptly closed off._

_You kick and struggle for what seems like hours, feeling your body grow weaker with each moment that passes. Black is creeping into your vision. The last thing you see is the cruel grin on the ghoul's face before everything just fades away._

XXXXXX

When Sam gets to the hospital the next morning, not much has changed, but there's good news. The doctor says they did some more scans and the swelling is going down, but it will be a while before she wakes up. So he pulls out the book he found in your duffel. He's read stories about coma patients hearing what goes on in their rooms, so he figures it's worth a try.

"Hi, Y/N," he says quietly. "I brought your book-  _Les Miserables._  I'm probably butchering that. Anyways, I thought I would read it to you. I'm going to start at the beginning, though, because I've never read this book." With that, he flips to the first page and begins: " _An hour before sunset, on the evening of a day in the beginning of October, 1815, a man traveling afoot entered the little down of D-----._  Why is it just called  _D-----_? That's strange. Anyways. The few persons who at this time were at their windows or their doors, regarded this traveller with a sort of distrust..."

XXXXXX

" _'And then, do you know, Monsieur Marius, I believe I was a little in love with you'_."

Sam's voice is the first thing you recognize, as you drift in and out of consciousness. The second thing is a strange feeling in your chest.

Oh.

_Oh._

Your eyes fly open and you fight to inhale, thrashing on the bed.

"Whoa, Y/N!"

_Sam. Sam's here._

"You're okay, i promise. Listen to me, sweetheart. You're safe. You're in a hospital."

_A hospital? Why?_

"You've been in a coma. The doctor has you hooked up to a machine that helps you breathe. A nurse is on her way, but you need to relax and try not to fight it."

 _Sam's here. Sam wouldn't lie. Everything must be okay, then._ You force yourself to relax. It's strange, breathing and not doing any of the work, but it's a lot better than not breathing.

Sam's big hands stroke your hair and he murmurs soothing words in his sonorous voice. It helps, a lot more than he probably realizes.

"You're awake!" the nurse is cheerful and bubbly, and you immediately despise her. "I suppose you're wanting that tube out. Here's how this is going to work: on the count of three, I need you to cough as hard as you can so I can pull it out. Alright, deary?"

You flash her a thumbs up because your neck hurts and you don't want to move your head.

"Splendid. One... two... three!"

You force out a cough and she pulls. The tube slides out painlessly. You relax, drawing a deep breath on your own.

"Lovely," the nurse says, bustling about. "The doctor will be here in a little while, so you drink some water and sit tight!" With that she leaves, much to your relief.

"Here, drink." Sam holds a straw to your lips. "Small sips. You've been unconscious for a week."

You gaze up at him, taking small drinks, and realize he's not as happy as you expected. In fact, he looks very upset.

"You're angry," you rasp, letting go of the straw a moment.

"You think? You almost died, Y/N. Of course I'm angry!"

"Sam-"

"No, you are going to listen to me for once. I didn't want you to come on this hunt, but I caved under the condition that you would stay at the motel. You promised and you broke that promise, and you almost died." He's fighting to keep from yelling.

"I couldn't just sit at the motel and do nothing! Sam, I saved your life! That makes this all worth it. You're okay."

"If saving me means risking yourself, it will never be worth it." Sam storms out, pushing past a familiar leather jacket-clad figure.

"Sam!" you call. You want to go after him, but you're still hooked to several machines.

Dean moves to sit on the edge of your bed, picking up a book you just now notice off of the chair Sam was using. "He'll come around, kid," the elder Winchester assures you. "Just give him time." He hands you the book and kisses your forehead. "But I'll go talk to him for you."

"Thanks, Dean," you murmur.

Once you're alone, you look down at the book in your hands- Les Miserables. There's a bookmark in it and you open it to that spot. There's a part underlined, where you know there wasn't a marking before.

_And then, do you know, Monsieur Marius, I believe I was a little in love with you._

Sam comes back.


End file.
